


In The Middle

by CatsoftheApocalypse



Series: MARVELous Guys [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Mentions of Death, assumes you are up to date on MCU movies and shows, mentions of fatal injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-08-28 17:31:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8455513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatsoftheApocalypse/pseuds/CatsoftheApocalypse
Summary: Hive is about to attack, and you are ready to face him, together with the rest of SHIELD. Coulson, however, has other plans for you.





	1. Yes, Director.

The base was still in uproar, with Agents and other personnel bustling about, chattering about Daisy’s return and whispering about Hive, who still remained to be defeated.

In moments like this, I found calm in the SSR emblem, still shining forth from the wall directly opposite the Director’s office. Coulson had sent for me shortly after the Quinjet had landed and FitzSimmons had determined Daisy was indeed free of Hive’s ‘infection’, but now I had to wait, since he was still discussing tactics with the core team. Therefore, I occupied myself by looking intently at the emblem, memorizing every crack in the paint, and at the same time being reminded of how this all started. How S.H.I.E.L.D. would never have been possible without the SSR. Without Peggy Carter.

 

When the Director’s office door opened, I could not be sure how much time had gone by, since I had zoned out after a while. Greeting me with curt nods as they passed, most of the core team exited the room before Coulson himself appeared in the doorway.

“L/N. Come on in.”

“Director.” I nodded and complied.

He closed the door after me and I was mildly surprised to find both Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons in the room with us. Coulson walked around me to lean against the edge of his desk.

“There’s no gentle way to put this, L/N, so I’ll give it to you straight. I need to send you off-base.”

The silence following his announcement was droning to my ears as I waited for a further explanation that did not come.

“May I ask why?”

“There’s… an assignment.”

“I see. I just thought we needed all hands on deck until Hive is dealt with.”

“We do. And your specific set of hands is needed here. This takes priority. At least for you.”

“Why me?” I asked, wondering why I had been picked for whatever my mysterious task was going to be.

“Because you’re the Agent with the most medical training after FitzSimmons.”

That might have been a slight exaggeration. My eyes focused on the two who seemed to be a little uncomfortable with the whole situation.

“Director, I don’t understand.”

“Follow me. All of you.”


	2. No, I Did Not See That Coming.

I could not have been more surprised, had Coulson turned around after a few steps and slapped me across the face with his miracle hand. As it was, my astonishment had to wait until we reached Sublevel D, where we normally only held people dangerous enough that they needed to be detained, but not… special… enough to warrant more sophisticated methods of keeping them in place.

Coulson had taken the lead, and I followed right after him, as instructed. FitzSimmons were behind me, still seeming nervous and uncomfortable. After Coulson had opened a steel door and we descended yet another, albeit short, flight of stairs, I gaped at the scene unfolding in front of my eyes.

 

The room, brightly lit and filled with enough high-end medical equipment to make any world-class hospital jealous, had only one occupant. The beeping of the heart monitor was steady, but far too slow. As my gaze moved over the unconscious figure in the bed, I detected no obvious injuries. When I saw his face-

The Director, as well as FitzSimmons, remained silent while I tried to process what I saw.

“Am I seeing this right?” I asked, not addressing anyone in particular. “Is he-“

“Pietro Maximoff. Yes.” Coulson confirmed what my eyes told me, but I had a hard time wrapping my head around.

“How is this possible? I thought he died in Sokovia. Shot while saving Barton and a kid.”

“All available evidence confirms that he did.” Simmons now spoke up.

“Then riddle me this: How can he be here? Alive?”

Here, Coulson stepped up again, turning to face me as he spoke.

“According to our sources, his sister released an immense burst of her power after he died. We’re not sure how it’s possible, but somebody on the Helicarrier that day noticed that he had a pulse. Slow. Slower than it is now, but it was there. He has been here ever since. We can only assume that that jolt of energy restarted his heart. He showed the same amount of vital signs as someone would under the influence of Tetrodetoxin B, so it is not surprising that nobody else aboard the Carrier that day noticed anything.”

“Do the Avengers know?”

“No.” Coulson said firmly. “Including you, only five people know about this.”

I did not ask about the fifth person. The only one not in the room with us. I had my suspicions, but other things seemed more urgent to me at that moment.

“Why not?”

“His condition did not really improve much over the past year.” Fitz now spoke for the first time. “Everyone involved came to the conclusion it would be best to keep this as quiet as possible, instead of making it even harder on his sister should he not wake up.”

“And why move him now?”

“Recently, as in over the last few weeks, his pulse has become more normal.” Simmons said. “His vitals in general have improved, and it seems that his increased metabolism is slowly kicking back in.”

I did not have a thought to spare for the irony of an increased metabolism doing anything slowly, and Jemma was still speaking.

“The Director-“

“We can’t risk Hive getting his hands on him. He is nowhere near healed, but he could wake up at any point now. I want him in a safe location when Hive attacks.”

“Safer than the base?”

Coulson just gave me a weary half-smile.

 

I had obviously agreed to taking on the assignment. Not that I could have said no, but I hadn’t wanted to anyway, so the point was moot.

Now, I stood next to Jemma in her lab and she gave me a rundown of everything I might need to know. Coulson and Fitz were in the meantime preparing everything for my departure with Maximoff.

When Jemma had walked me through the medical details I needed to be aware of, we fell into silence until Fitz entered the room.

“Everything is ready.” he said. “The Director expects you in the Quinjet-Hangar in five minutes.”

“Thank you, Leo.” I acknowledged his words with a tight smile.

Jemma seemed to know exactly what I was thinking.

“It’ll be fine, F/N.” she said, reaching for the hand I had rested on the tabletop and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I don’t know, Jemma…” I sighed heavily. Even provided everything goes all right medically… What do I do when he wakes up? What do I tell him?”

“You’ll figure something out.” she said.

“You think too much of me. Tactics, I can handle. But having to explain to a man that he’s been in a coma for over a year, and we have no idea where his sister is, because every country is now after super people if they don’t want to be put on a leash? Having to explain why everyone he knows thinks he’s dead? That might just make me start biting my nails again.” I muttered, looking down at my hands.

We were all silent for a few moments, but I had a date with a comatose hero, so I straightened myself, said my goodbyes to the two of them, and went to get my go-bag.

 

Having activated the stealth panels half an hour into our flight to Coulson-knows-where, I flipped the switch for the auto pilot and got up from the pilot’s seat to stretch my legs. I hadn’t even been sitting for that long, but a jet’s limited space always made me a bit antsy. Now that I was basically alone, without anybody to converse with, it actually had my stomach in a knot.

Three large carts of supplies, food and medicine alike, and my motionless passenger were the only company I had.

My fingers felt around the sharp edges of the tiny black cube the Director had dropped into my hand before he left the jet, instructing me to head straight east for thirty minutes after take-off, then activate stealth mode and automatic guidance. Most of all, he had stressed that I was not to activate the cube before landing.

My own little toolbox. The thought had me kind of proud. A little. But mostly, I was nervous.

Having checked on my charge and made sure the supply carts were properly secured, again, I grabbed the copy of my favorite book I always kept at the bottom of my go-bag and settled in for a long flight.

 

It was useless. I slammed my book shut and dropped it back into my bag, barely glancing at Maximoff’s heart monitor as I passed on my way to glance out a window.

Coulson had preset a course for the auto pilot, not telling me where I would end up for security reasons, only that it would take several hours to get there. As I looked outside, the only things I could see were water and sky. I doubted the view would be any different if there were windows in the back of the jet. I probably should have expected the flight to be transatlantic, considering the timeframe, but a little warning would still have been nice.

After a deep sigh, I went to take a seat on a bench next to Maximoff’s bed.

“Just the two of us.” I muttered, looking him over.

Even in his current state, it was clear that he was a good-looking man. A few days worth of stubble covered his face, and I briefly wondered who might have been the one to give him a semi-regular shave while he was hidden away mat the Playground. Maybe Jemma. She always considered everything, and if his condition changed so little over such a long time, she would be the one to think of her patients’ general comfort, even if it was just in case he _did_ wake up. That would be up to me now as well, I supposed.

“What am I gonna do with you?” I whispered.

Really, what I meant was what I would do when he woke up. No matter the outcome of the inevitable confrontation with Hive, the only information I had was Maximoff’s medical file, and that I had to keep him safe. Nobody had told me what I was supposed to do after Hive was dealt with. Or how I was even supposed to know when that was the case. I could only hope that my toolbox would actually be useful.

 

As I wheeled the last cart with medical supplies off the Quinjet’s ramp, I looked over my shoulder to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. Then I hit the remote button Coulson had shown me on the toolbox, and the jet took off, the small hangar’s retractable roof closing above us after the jet disappeared into the azure.

I stared at the ceiling for a while, wondering how long it might be before I got to see actual sky again, until the toolbox began to softly vibrate, demanding my attention. Glancing down at in unassumingly resting in my palm, I noticed a small blue arrow, moving from one edge to the opposite one. It seemed to point directly at me, but a quick look behind me, and I identified a double door as a much more likely suspect. And to be sure, I turned in various other directions, but the arrow always pointed at the door.

“Okay, Coulson, whatever you say.” I muttered with a shrug.

Maximoff would be safe in the hangar for a few minutes as I investigated, so I merely checked his vitals again before I went to follow my odd little compass.

I kept a solid hold on my gun with one hand, the other slightly outstretched in front of me as I navigated the through a few hallways. Trusting Coulson did not mean I was going to drop my guard. Better safe than sorry.

It quickly became clear to me that this place wasn’t nearly as big as the Playground. Rather, it seemed to be intended as more of a hideout – which obviously made it ideal for this sort of occasion – than an actual base of operations. No more than two minutes of walking led me directly to an office door. Since it was where the arrow had led me, I opened the door – although still careful of my surroundings – and entered. The door fell shut after me, and the edges of the toolbox lit up for a moment. I could hear a mechanical whirr, and then the sound of an artificial female voice.

“Office secure.”

Of course. Fury. Coulson. Paranoid suckers, both of them.

A beam of light now emerged from one side of the toolbox, and suspecting it to be some sort of projection, I turned it to the only plain whit wall on the office for simplicity, setting it down on the desk. Naturally, it was Phil Coulson’s face that greeted me.

“Agent L/N. Since you see this, you have arrived safely at your destination. I apologize for the secrecy. It was necessary for reasons I am sure you can relate to. Now, to answer a number of questions you certainly have.

The safe spot I sent you to is in southern France. The only evidence it exists, other than the base itself, is this recording. It is as safe as can be.

I can not say for certain how long you will have to stay there. Pending the outcome of the upcoming altercation with Hive, it might be several months. I have devised several action plans for various scenarios, and should anything untoward happen, I will send a remote signal to your toolbox to inform you which steps you should take next. Therefore, it is essential you keep the toolbox with you at all times. It will vibrate continuously when activated via remote signal, until you reach this office, which is the only place the recording will then play.

If it should come to the worst and the safety of your base can no longer be guaranteed, there is a variety of vehicles available to you in the hangar. You are advised only to use them, and only to leave the base, if it is absolutely necessary or you are instructed to do so.

I am afraid this is all the information I can divulge at this point.

Goodbye, Agent L/N. I hope to see you soon.”

The projection shut off and I took a shaky breath while the office lockdown was automatically lifted. My head was hanging low, my hands resting n the desk in front of me.

That was not a lot of information, but still more than I could have hoped for. At least I had a general location. And south France wasn’t too bad.

Opening my eyes, I found a floor plan of the entire base on the desk, and decided to get to work. Might as well get comfortable.

 

Well, ‘comfortable’ was a term that could be stretched to fit any number of circumstances. In this particular case, it meant that I had made everything as easily accessible to me as possible. The safe spot’s med bay was conveniently close to the hangar, so I brought Maximoff there first, and proceeded to take a more in-depth look at his condition.

Even during the hours of our flight, he had definitely improved, albeit marginally. Jemma was right. His increased metabolism, hand in hand with improved healing, had certainly set back in.

Having also moved any medical equipment and supplies to the med bay, I had gone on to find I had gone on to find the small base’s kitchen and bring our food there. Lastly, I had found myself a bunk as close by as possible.

 

Although it would have been easy to keep track of how many days had passed, I did not bother doing so. I estimated. I estimated it must have been somewhere around two weeks, maybe a bit longer. It did not really matter, though. The days were all the same anyway.

I woke up.

I trained.

Breakfast.

Some more training.

Checking on Maximoff, whose condition continued to improve rapidly.

Lunch.

Watching some old cartoons from a USB drive I kept at the bottom of my go-bag, because there is only so much training one can do.

Checking out – pardon, on – Maximoff again.

Dinner.

Go to bed.

 

I was in the middle of making myself a sandwich, expecting nothing out of what had quickly become the ordinary for me, when a metallic clang suddenly echoed through the halls, followed by a rapid beeping.


	3. Maybe We Should Go.

The lettuce I had just been about to strip of a couple of its leaves tumbled to the floor as I stormed out of the kitchen and towards the med bay.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

What was I supposed to do if we were under attack? Could it be somebody had found the safe spot and was in the process of finishing off what Ultron had begun? I was well-trained, but I wouldn’t be able to beat a full-sized enemy force on my own and protect my charge at the same time. After all, Maximoff was still unconscious-

Or not.

I was frozen in place, right in the doorway, for a moment as I beheld Pietro Maximoff, still alone, no enemy forces in sight, standing next to his hospital grade bed, trying to remain upright on shaky legs. Quite a fight, seeing as he hadn’t really used them in over a year.

The still enduring high-pitched beeping came from the heart monitor. He must have just ripped the sensors from his body, and the device reacted accordingly.

He still hadn’t noticed me, but when he attempted to move away from the bed, I hurried forward to stop him from toppling over.

“Woah, woah, woah, hold your horses there, Slowpoke.”

His attention captured, he regarded me with suspicion and tried to lean away from me. Low and warm, although scratchy and unused, his voice washed over me like set honey.

“Who are you? What is this place? Where are the others?”

“That’s a long-ish story.” I admitted. “Let’s face it, you’re not going anywhere on your own just yet, let alone fast, so let me help you sit, and then I can tell you everything without being afraid that you’re going to collapse on me. Do we have a deal?”

He squinted at me, but seemed to find me trustworthy enough to make this small commitment.

“Great!” I clapped my hands together once he was seated. “Mind if I check a few things while we talk? Nothing big. Pulse, blood pressure, that kind of stuff?”

“I don’t even know you.”

“Of course. Sorry. My name is L/N. F/N L/N. For you, it’s F/N. I’m with SHIELD.”

“SHIELD?”

“Yeah. I- Look, I’ll keep talking, tell you whatever, but would you please let me check your vitals?”

“Fine.” he grumbled. “No needles.”

“Splendid.” I said, moving in to check his pulse. “So, where do you want to start?”

“What is this place?”

“It’s a safe spot. Probably the smallest base ever. I don’t think anybody knows where we are, besides me, sort of, and the Director.”

“Director?”

“Yeah. The Director of SHIELD. After the old SHIEL fell… Let’s just say sometimes we all need a shield to hide behind. But I guess you know that all too well.”

“What do you-“

“You getting shot while saving Barton and the kid. Thanks for that, by the way. He’s a good man.”

“I don’t even know why I did that…”

“Because you knew he’s a good man? Because you are one yourself?”

“How would you know?”

“Well, being willing to risk your life for someone else’s is a pretty good indicator. You almost died. Hell, you _did_ die. If it wasn’t for your sister’s outburst, you’d be… not here.”

“Wanda?”

“Yes.” I nodded, pulling up a chair and sitting to face him, as I had finished the basic examinations.

The rest could wait until we had built up some trust.

“She felt it – when you died. Something happened, like her powers snapped, for just a moment. We think that jolt jumpstarted your heart. But it wasn’t much. Your vital signs were barely existent. So you were brought back to our main base, and kept safe there. Only four people knew. With me it’s five now. None of them are Avengers.”

“They think I’m dead?” he barked, his anger plain to see.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Even my sister?”

“Yes.”

“Where is she? I need to find her.”

“I don’t know. Truly.” I added when he glared at me. “But I’m sure we can find out. SHIELD’s resources, although not what they once were, are still considerable. And I’m pretty sure the Director has been keeping a close eye on Captain Rogers, even since– I’ll get to that. Now, would you like to hear the rest, or would you prefer to try going off by yourself, perhaps injuring yourself further since you’re not entirely back to your old self yet?”

He huffed in frustration, completely aware that I was right. Leaning back, he motioned for me to continue my tale, so I picked up where I had left off.

“The battle of Sokovia… That was almost a year and a half ago.”

His eyes widened in surprise, more and more so as I continued.

 

“So the Avengers are no more.” Pietro muttered when I had ended. “And my sister is in the wind.”

“Technically, the Avengers still exist. It’s just… different now. But I’m afraid you’re right about your sister. There’s only a few likely suspects for the breach at the Raft-Prison, but if you ask me, only one of them could have pulled it off.”

“The Captain?”

“Exactly.”

“And we are stuck here because of – what did you call him?”

“Hive. Yes. The Director thought it would be best to get you out of harm’s way. As far as possible.”

“You haven’t heard anything in weeks?”

“No. The message in my toolbox was the last I heard from him. But I don’t think it will be much longer. I’ve got a sinking feeling something’s changed. Can’t put my finger on it.”

“What do you suggest we do in the meantime?”

I smiled at his use of the word ‘we’. Promising. I was starting to like the man.

“Well… You seem fine so far, physically. I would, however, still like to test a few things. And don’t try to do your thing just yet. Get back to walking at a normal speed first. Your metabolism is almost where it was before you were shot, so it should only take a few days for you to get back to… _your_ normal. Then, we could… I don’t know… train together? Maybe we could show each other a few tricks?”

He gave no verbal reply, just a nod. His thoughts, I assumed, were already back with his sister.

“Okay, then. Tell you what… Before I do anything else, I’ll go find you something to wear, other than those scrubs. Be right back.”

I was already in the hallway when a thought crossed my mind, and I turned back.

“Hey, Slowpoke?”

He looked up at me, his eyebrows knitted together. “What you did for Barton and that kid… I know I thanked you already, but I want to say it again. It was very brave. A decision I – a lot of agents – admired, as soon as we heard.”

Again, he did not say anything, but his unwavering gaze remained fixed on me until I nodded and left to find him some clothes. I knew there was a box full of them among the supplies we’d brought.

 

A couple of days went by, the shift in my routine ending up not nearly as big as I thought. Days really remained pretty much the same, the only difference being that they now involved two conscious people, instead of just one.

It really took only a little more than a day and some decent food – in moderation, considering he hadn’t actually eaten in over a year – for Pietro to get back to his feet without shaking as if he was about to collapse. Of course, once that was the case he would not leave me be until I agreed that he could start training with me immediately.

 

Panting heavily, I did not even consider taking my eyes off him. Not because he looked incredibly attractive in those sweatpants and the tight-fitting T-Shirt. It wasn’t like I had admired his build. The courtesy of Hydra quickly reappearing muscles.

No. That would be silly of me.

It was because he had proved to be a worthy opponent, even without his speed helping him out.

He was quick to block me – just the normal kind of quick – when I moved in for a punch, or a kick. So was I. Neither of us would easily let their guard down when we were doing this. Circling each other. Ready to pounce. Waiting, patiently.

“Why do you keep calling me Slowpoke?” he asked out of nowhere.

Nothing about him had changed. He was still watching me as we both moved across the mats. Therefore, I kept my surprise under wraps and did the same, even while I replied.

“Does it bother you, Pietro?”

“Ah. So you _can_ say my name. No. It doesn’t bother me. But it is strange. I’m just guessing you have a very specific reason.”

“Mhm… Maybe I do.”

“Will you tell me?”

“Maybe.” I smirked. “But you’d have to earn it.”

“How?” he asked, suddenly so intrigued that, for just a second, he let his guard down.

I attacked.

He easily deflected the admittedly half-hearted punches I threw, but did not expect me to drop to one knee, swinging my other leg at his feet and knocking him down. In a flash, I was above him, holding his hands down tight on either side of his head. A few wisps of hair had escaped my practical do and tickled lightly as they curled around my face while I smirked down at him.

“By beating me during training. Try again another time, I suppose.”

He wore a stunned expression which remained unchanged, even after several long moments had passed.

“What?” I asked to shake him out of his stupor. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see that coming.”

I did not have time to register the mischievous glint in his eyes before, in a blur of movement, my back hit the mat, our positions entirely reversed.

“I don’t know…” he pretended to muse, the smug bastard. “Did you?”

I groaned, somewhere between annoyance and amusement.

“So, I take it you’re back in the higher gears.”

“So it would seem.” He agreed.

He did not appear to be in a hurry to loosen his grip, or to let me up off the ground. Instead, he watched my face intently while we exchanged playful banter.

“That’s good.” I smiled. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I had been under the impression that he had begun to trust me, at least a little bit.

“I wasn’t-“

He was interrupted when the toolbox, which I had placed on a metal stool near the door, began to vibrate, creating a rather thundering, quite unpleasant sound on the surface that echoed around us in short intervals.

“Shit.” I muttered.

Pietro knew what this meant, since I had told him everything the first message had contained. Id asked him to trust me, and it appeared only fair that I should return the favor.

He released me and helped me to my feet, then following me as I picked up the toolbox and left the training room, turning towards the office I had come to think of as mine.

He stopped at the office door, reluctance plain in his stance and expression as I cast a questioning look over my shoulder.

“Come on in.” I said with a smile. “I’m not going to start keeping secrets from you now.”

When he still hesitated, I reached out to him, and he took my hand, following me into the room.

As before, the door fell shut on its own, followed by the same mechanical whirr and the artificial female voice announcing the office was now secure. Still holding onto my hand, Pietro watched as I placed the toolbox on the desk in front of us.

 

“Agent L/N.” Phil Coulson’s voice sounded while the projection still sharpened. “Allow me again to apologize. Due to recent developments, the nature of which was still unclear at the time of this recording, I must recommend that you and Maximoff leave immediately. The safety of your location can no longer be guaranteed.

I suggest you use one of the vehicles I mentioned before. Take with you what you can. Destroy the rest. Make sure you can not be tracked. Change your mode of transportation as soon as possible.

Concerning where to go, that is entirely up to you. And Maximoff, of course, should he be awake. However, I have a recommendation.”

Coulson’s face disappeared and was replaced by a map.

“I have used a number of personal resources, and called in a considerable amount of favors to keep track of a person of interest. This research is known in its entirety to nobody but me, and I do now share it with you since it is relevant to your situation.

As far as the rest of SHIELD is concerned, you are taking some personal time off. Should you therefore at any point decide to return, that option is open to you.

The top right drawer on the desk in this office contains a convenient amount of money in various currencies, which should come in handy. Take the toolbox with you. As of the end of this recording, its contents will be accessible to you whenever you wish. It can be unlocked with your thumbprint only.

Be safe, Agent L/N. Good Luck.”

 

I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, my hands shaking ever so slightly. Pietro noticed, and gave the one he was still holding a comforting squeeze.

“What do we do now?” he asked lowly as the office unlocked.

“We do what the Director said. We leave. Can you go pack your stuff? I’ll grab the money. Meet me in the med bay after.”

He nodded and was gone, the air current his speedy departure created whipping my hair in every possible and impossible direction.

 

Not even an hour later, we were on the road.

The trunk of the least conspicuous car we could find was filled with what supplies, mostly food, we could take, and the image of everything else we’d brought in the jet disintegrating as I hit the pile with a blast from one of Fitz’ new toys was still fresh in my mind.


	4. I Don't Know What To Do

Between the rolled-down windows to let in some fresh air and the almost meditative effect of seeing the southern French countryside breeze past us, my head had cleared pretty well in the few hours since we had left the base. I had not spoken much, and neither had Pietro. We were both too wrapped up in our own thoughts, one would suppose. But now, I figured it was time we talked.

“Hey, Slowpoke…” I started, sparing him but a quick glance before I returned my eyes to the road ahead since I had no intention of dying before we reached our destination. “Do you still want to know why I call you that?”

“Not really.” he muttered.

“I see. You have other questions, though. Shoot.”

“Where are we going?”

“Where the map pointed us. To Wakanda.”

“Wakanda?” he repeated, sounding taken aback.

“Yes. You heard of it?”

His reaction surprised me, since I did not remember mentioning the country by name when I’d told him what had happened during his time out.

“Only once. Briefly.”

“Let me guess. Ultron?”

“Ultron.” he confirmed.

“Well, the King of Wakanda… Remember the guy in the dark suit I mentioned? The one who stood with Stark against the Captain?”

He nodded.

“That’s him. T’Challa. The Black Panther. King of Wakanda.”

“But if he stood against Captain Rogers, why are we going to his home?”

“I was wondering why Coulson would encourage us to go there as well. So while you were packing, I had a quick look at the files attached to the message. The person of interest Coulson talked about was the Captain. He was indeed the one who broke into the Raft. Coulson lost his trail, but last he knew, Rogers was in Wakanda. He went there right after the Raft. It’s not a guarantee for anything, but your sister might be there.”

“Wanda?”

“You sound shocked. I thought you would want to find her?”

“I did. I do. I just don’t understand…”

“Understand what?”

“Why you’re helping me find her.”

“Do you not want me with you?” I asked, even though the very thought stung.

“That’s not it… Just… Why?”

“Well…” I sighed, slightly relieved. “For one, I consider it an extension of my assignment. To keep you safe. To help you. As much as I can.

“Wakanda has always been… guarded. As a nation, I mean. Even with their recent efforts to be more open to the world, getting in there might prove difficult. I’d hate sending you out there to do this on your own.

Also, it’s not exactly close. And getting there may be dangerous along the way. But I think…”

I hesitated, unsure whether I should really say what else was on my mind.

“Yes?” he prompted, his encouraging look plain to see, even though it was only in my periphery.

I swallowed before I resumed speaking.

“I think, more than any of that, I just _want_ to help you. Because you’re one of the good guys. Because I like you.”

 

I looked behind me, where I found Pietro watching me as he waits for me to unlock the door. There was something strange in the way he eyed me.

After our little conversation about my reasons for helping him find his sister, he had been quiet. In fact, he had not uttered a single word since then.

I, for my part, had done my best to remain focused on the road. We had been in that car for nearly twenty hours when I just could not do it anymore. Having been up for quite some time back at the base already, I had still wanted to put as much space as possible between us and it, because you never know…

But we had to stop at some point. So when we had travelled what felt like a decent distance, I had started to look out for something like a Bed&Breakfast. It had taken a while to find something appropriate. Not too fancy, not too bad, just… fine.

In order to be as inconspicuous as possible, I had asked for one room only, so as not to disrupt the surely summoned illusion that we might be a couple. For the owner of the B&B, anyway. I would have been surprised if Pietro had spent even a second thinking about something like this. He wordlessly followed me into the room, his expression grim.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, facing him after I had placed my go-bag on the foot end of the large bed.

“Nothing.” He grunted.

“Come on, don’t lie to me. I may not have known you for long, but I can tell something’s up. You know you can trust me, right?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you…”

“Okay. So what then?”

“Back in the car, you said… You said you were helping me because you like me.”

“Yeah. And?”

“I’m not sure I understand that.”

“What’s not to understand?”

“Why would you like me? Because I’m ‘a good guy’, as you say?”

“For one. But again, that is not the only reason.”

He just looked at me, a question in his eyes. They were so hauntingly beautiful, it made my chest feel too small for my rapidly beating heart. But I could hardly tell him that.

“Look…” I sighed. “I don’t understand why it is so difficult for you to accept that I just want to help you. And your sister. She deserves to know that you’re alive. You don’t know how to get to Wakanda, and even if you did, we can’t be sure she’s actually there. Can’t you just believe me that I like you, and want to help you, and leave it at that? I don’t know what to say to you otherwise. I have more reasons, but I don’t… they’re kind of embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?”

“Yeah… I…”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I trust you.”

“Thanks, Slowpoke.”

He smiled at the nickname and ruffled my hair.

“Hey!” I complained, playfully slapping his hand away.

“You know, one day, I’ll get you to tell me why you call me that.”

“In your dreams.” I said, returning his smirk.

 

I took first shower, and after brushing my hair out and getting dressed in flannel bottoms and a tank top for the night, vacated the bathroom for Pietro, sitting down cross-legged in the center of the bed, to study a map I had bought at a small shop across the street. The sooner we figured out how to do this, the better.

When Pietro stepped out of the bathroom half an hour later, I was still pouring over the map.

“What are you looking for?” he asked curiously.

“Our route from here on out.” I muttered, not lifting my eyes.

“And?”

“Well… France does have Mediterranean coast, but I really don’t want to be trapped on a boat for longer than we absolutely have to be. So, unless you insist otherwise, I would suggest we find ourselves another ride tomorrow and make the drive through Spain. We could catch a ferry to Morocco from there. That one would take as little as an hour.

That’s as far as I’ve come at this point.”

“Sounds pretty solid to me.”

“Really? I don’t know… It just makes me a little uncomfortable not to know the whole plan. Then again, those plans hardly ever work the entire way through, I suppose. Maybe it’s better if we make it up as we-“ a massive yawn forced me to break up my sentence at this point, the second part coming out muffled as was still covering my mouth with my hand. “-as we go along. Sorry.”

He chuckled at my tired apology, and I froze when I finally looked up at him.

There he stood, in all his bare-chested glory, not the least bit bothered b the chill in the room. A few drops of water the towel had missed still glistened on his skin, but what captured my attention most were the scars.

I’d seen them before, of course, but it was an entirely different story now that he was awake.

“You’re staring.” He said, sounding just a little bit nervous.

“What?” I asked, hypnotized.

He must have followed my line of sight, because his hands came up to hide as many of the marks Ultron had left him with as he could from sight. I shifted my gaze to his face at that, and found it bright red by now.

“I… I should have…” he stuttered “I normally sleep without a shirt, but I should have put one on… I didn’t think the scars would bother-“

“They don’t bother me.” I interrupted him quickly, scrambling to get up from the bed at the same time.

I reached him just before he could reenter the bathroom, snatching his wrist and tugging him around to face me again. He refused to look me in the eyes, though, choosing to focus on the floor instead.

“They don’t bother me.” I repeated, determined. “I was just surprised. I didn’t expect you to… you know… not have a shirt on. And, I mean, it’s kind of amazing, still, even with all I know about the crazy in this world that…” I loosened my fingers around his wrist and moved my hand up to his chest, barely able to stop myself before I could touch one of the marks, while he was still staring at the floor. “… that you survived this. You made it through that massive amount of injury, and that’s pretty cool. If anybody needs to apologize, it’s me. I shouldn’t have stared. I’m sorry, Pietro.” I ended, dropping my hand with a sigh.

Having closed my own eyes after my apology, I only noticed that he had lifted his gaze from the ground when I opened them again as I felt his hand coming to rest against my cheek. The smile on his lips was small, but definitely there.

“So I don’t have to put a shirt on?” he asked, chuckling softly.

“No. You don’t. In fact, I’d be disappointed if you did.” I blurted out mindlessly, blushing slightly as he burst into laughter.

“I think it’s time you go to sleep.” He said after he had calmed down. “I’ll take the couch.”

My embarrassment at the verbal slip had barely subsided, and my cheeks were still red when I replied.

“Why would you say that? The bed is that big for a reason, you know?” I pointed out, gesturing to the according piece of furniture, which was at least a king size.

Apparently, it was his turn to blush now.

“I just- I didn’t want to make assumptions.” he said.

“And I appreciate that. Come on. Let’s get some shut-eye. We can figure out our travel plans tomorrow.”

 

I often woke up in the night. I always had, and I tended to easily fall back asleep after a couple of minutes. That first night on the run in France, however, I did not have that luxury. As I opened my eyes to sit up and have a drink of water from the bottle I had placed on the bedside table, I noticed the state Pietro was in.

The duvet only covered half of his upper body, enabling me to see, as well as hear, how fast he sucked in breath after breath. A thin sheen of sweat covered him, and his eyes were moving rapidly underneath his closed lids, bringing me a quick conclusion.

Nightmare.

I was not trained to deal with the psychological aftermath of physical trauma, or even Near-Death experiences like his, so the only thing I could go on to deal with this was my intuition. Hoping physical contact might help, maybe give him a sense of safety in his dream, I reached over to softly place my hand on his chest, just above his heart. Upon contact, he immediately jolted awake, his eyes wide open.

“Hey.” I whispered lowly. “It’s just me. Don’t worry. You’re okay.”

“F/N?” he asked, sounding confused.

“Yeah. You okay?”

“I’m not sure.” he muttered.

“Nightmare?”

“Yes.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“I don’t want to trouble you any more than I already do.”

He turned his head to look away from me. Leaving my hand where it was, still on his bare chest, resting above his racing heart, I spoke calmly, but firmly.

“Listen to me, Pietro. And please look at me as well, while you’re at it.” He slowly turned his face back towards me at my demand. “I would really appreciate it if you would stop assuming that whatever it is you do is somehow a bother to me. That’s getting old real fast, you know? So talk to me. Please.”

The room remained silent for a few heartbeats, but then he spoke, his eyes moving to fix on a spot somewhere above me.

“I was back in Sokovia.”

“I see. And you felt it all over again?”

His silence was answer enough.

“You have these dreams often?”

“Almost every night.”

Hearing that surprised me, but it probably shouldn’t have. He had been comparatively calm. No excessive movement, no screaming… If his nightmares always followed this same pattern, it was not unusual that it would slip my notice.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t-“

“I swear, if you say you did not want to bother me, I’m going to scream.”

“Fine.” He muttered, warmth returning to his voice.

“Okay.” I sighed. “So, if you want to talk some more, I’m here. Otherwise, maybe we should both try to go back to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us.

He didn’t say anything, but when I moved to pull my hand away from his chest to finally have that drink of water and lie back down myself, one of his hands shot up to cover mine, keeping it pinned to his body. Opting not to comment, I twisted to reach for the water with my other hand. After some difficulty opening and closing the bottle before and after I drank, I replaced it in its spot and shuffled to lie back down by his side, closer than before.

 

We raced through the thick underbrush, the heat pressing down on us even under the cover of leaves. I still could not shake the feeling we were being followed, even after the mad dash and crossing the border to Wakanda in a slightly less surveilled spot, directly into the rainforest, what felt like several miles back. I was out of breath and my sides had begun to sting minutes ago. Pietro, of course, seemed hardly phased at all.

Suddenly entering a small clearing, we both skidded to a halt. Right in front of us stood three women, their heads shaven bald, their clothing tight-fitting and distinctly…warrior-like. They carried no obvious weapons, but even considering what little SHIELD knew about them, I was certain they did not need them.

Next to me, Pietro shifted into a fighting stance, but I held my hand out in front of him.

“Cool it, Slowpoke.” I said in a surprisingly even tone. “Trust me, we wouldn’t stand a chance against them. They’re Dora Milaje.”

“You seem to know much.” A voice sounded from the trees.

The women remained silent, and I felt the urge to kneel, or drop a curtsy, or something along those lines, when I caught sight of the figure stepping out of the forest from behind them.

“And still you creep into this country as if you mean to do us harm.”


	5. Can You Repeat The Question? I Didn't Hear That.

It was a lucky thing indeed that we had taken so much food when we fled the Hideout, as I had dubbed it. That way, we were free to use most of the money we had on transportation. Pietro had insisted we could make it even faster on foot, if he carried me, but I had vehemently refused, pointing out that he was still on the mend, even if he felt fine, and that we should not risk exposure either, considering he was supposed to be dead. Eventually, he had come around to see the wisdom in my words.

Following the night at the Bed&Breakfast, the day had been filled with awkward tension and hot cheeks, since we had woken up way closer than we had fallen asleep. I had not brought that fact up for the rest of our week-long journey, even as it kept happening every time we stopped for the night.

In my defense, however, he avoided the topic just as much as I did. When he woke first, he’d disentangle himself from the sheets quickly, or pretend to be asleep, hoping I did not notice his tactics. And he had turned quiet.

His silence ate away at me as we travelled towards, and then through, Spain, and even as we crossed the Strait of Gibraltar. From there on, we had travelled by train, and then on foot for the past few days, since I had thought it wise to keep as low a profile as possible while we got ever closer to Wakanda.

It was only was only when we entered the border regions that I started to feel as if there were eyes on us. So we started running. Well, I ran. To Pietro it was no more than a leisurely jog.

The joy he felt when he ran at top speed, moved as fast as he was able to, radiated off him even after he stopped, and was one of the many things about him that had begun to intrigue me.

Right now, however, I did not see that joy. For one, he had matched my pace, and for another, we were faced with four rather imposing figures. The three warrior women standing in front of us were unmoving in their scrutiny of us, and formidable all on their own, but as much as I respected them, my true focus was on the figure just stepping from the shadows behind them and approaching us further.

I lowered that one of my hands still blocking Pietro’s path to his and locked our fingers together, giving a firm squeeze meant as both warning and reassurance.

“Your Majesty.” I said, forcing a calm tone.

He slowly removed his mask and passed his guards, coming to a halt directly in front of us.

Inappropriate as it might have been, seeing as he was royal, I had to admit he was an attractive man. The look he gave us was analytical, careful, but also kind.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“We came to look for… family.” I informed him honestly, but holding back on the details for the time being.

“F/N, what’s going on? Who is this guy?” Pietro whispered next to me.

“Look at him, Slowpoke. Consider where we are. Make an educated guess.”

“You mean he’s…”

“Yes. We’re standing in front of T’Challa. The Black Panther. King of Wakanda. And he asked me a question. I suppose I’d better answer it.” I replied, redirecting my gaze to the individual in question. “My name is F/N. F/N L/N. I used to be an agent with SHIELD. And he-“ I glanced over at my companion, squeezed his hand again, and smiled weakly, hoping for the best. “He’s Pietro. Maximoff.”

“I have heard of him. And I was under the impression he died. In Sokovia.”

“I did.” Pietro spoke up.

The King turned his head slightly to look Pietro up and down.

“Then how are you here?”

Pietro looked to me for help, so I jumped in and told T’Challa the same story I had Pietro. Plain, more or less simple, and true. He listened attentively, nodding every now and then. When I ended, he was silent for a few moments.

“I see. But answer me this: What makes you think his sister is in Wakanda?”

“Your Majesty, I never said it was Wanda Maximoff we are looking for.”

“Did you have to?” he asked with a reluctant smile. “What other family could you possibly hope to find here in Wakanda?”

“Very true.” I nodded. “I received a hint from a friend. From SHIELD times. He has always taken a particular interest in Captain Rogers, and kept track of his whereabouts after Vienna for as long as he could. His movements and actions led him to believe that he Wanda might be with you. If she is not, we will leave without causing trouble for you or your people. We take no issue with Wakanda, and have no desire to start doing so.”

“I am happy to hear that.” T’Challa said, giving an approving nod. “Follow me.”

He turned to head straight back into the woods, one of the Dora Milaje right behind him, while the other two waited for us to pass them so they could follow hot on our heels.

As we walked, we kept our hands linked, and Pietro leaned over to me.

“Where is he leading us?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“Then why are we doing as he says?”

“Because he is the ruler of this land. And as uncomfortable as it may make you, or me, for that matter, we intruded. Unannounced, and rather rudely. We explained our presence truthfully, and I think we were believed. Now, we can only wait and see. Based on the intelligence I have, he is a just man. Have a little faith.”

 

The jungle was dense, and one was barely able to see more than a few feet ahead through the tree trunks and underbrush. Still, I was absolutely positive that Pietro and myself were the only ones surprised when we suddenly cleared the trees and found ourselves on soft, freshly cut grass, moving towards a large building with a modern appearance. T’Challa did not halt his steps before we had entered the spacious, marble-floored foyer of the building. There, he turned to look us up and down again as we stood flanked by two of his Dora Milaje, the third still close by his side.

“This is one of our new border facilities. My father had a number of them built when he decided it was time for Wakanda to get more… involved with the world.”

I nodded my understanding, and glanced at Pietro by my side to find him doing the same thing.

“You two can stay here tonight.” T’Challa continued. Miss Maximoff… She is here in Wakanda, albeit in a different facility. From what I hear, she is not doing too well. I will see if she can be brought here, otherwise I shall arrange for the two of you t go to her. I’ll let you know which it is in the morning.”

He made to leave after instructing one of his guards to remain with us until someone came to bring us to a room we could stay in, but Pietro, who had said nothing since the clearing, stopped him.

“Your Majesty?” he said, causing T’Challa to look back at us over his shoulder. “Thank you.”

 

True to his word, T’Challa sent us a message the next morning. Or rather a full-blown letter, to be exact. We had asked to share a room, so we were both present when it knocked and a gentleman in a well-tailored dark suit handed me a pristine white envelope.

“My King asks you to read this carefully. When you are both ready, there is a car waiting for you downstairs. The driver will be in the foyer, so you can take your time.” he said with a calm face.

“Thank you. We’re sorry to be such trouble.”

“Not at all. You are guests of Wakanda, both of you, and you will be treated as such.”

I smiled and thanked him again before he took his leave and I sat down on the bed by Pietro’s side, letter in hand. It seemed that, during our journey, we had gotten used to being physically close and already did it without conscious effort.

“Would you like to read it? Or do you want me to read it out loud? This is about your sister, it should be your choice.” I asked, holding the sealed envelope out to him.

He was nervous. That much I could tell, even from merely looking at him.

“No no, you read it. If you would, read it out loud. Please.”

“Of course.” I conceded, breaking the seal and sucking in a deep breath while I began to decipher the flowing, yet bold, handwriting that had to be T’Challa’s.

 

_Ms. L/N, Mr. Maximoff,_

_As you will have been told by now, I think it is best for the two of you to be conveyed to Ms. Maximoff’s location, instead of the other way around. I have visited her in her room early this morning, and found her in a condition and mood no different from when she first arrived here with Captain Rogers. She has not spoken to anybody, and hardly ever moves. I am afraid this is due to the treatment she was subjected to during her imprisonment._

_Rest assure that, while I have supported the Sokovia Accords in the past, and still think that there is at least some merit in their general idea, I was disgusted when being first made aware of the way those who acted against them were treated._

_During my visit to Ms. Maximoff’s quarters, I gently hinted that somebody wanted to see her regarding her brother. This earned me a sudden change of the room’s energy, with a rather tense, unpleasant feel to it. I consequently recommend you be careful when breaking your news to her._

_Lastly, let me extend my hand, figuratively, and offer you my further hospitality and assistance, within reason, for as long as the three of you may need it._

 

“From there on, he just says things we already know. Car, driver, and so forth. And his signature, of course. Quite handsome, if I may say so.”

“What?” Pietro almost snapped.

“His handwriting. I like it.” I explained, glossing over his odd reaction.

“Oh. I see.”

“Sooo… What do you want to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when we get there. To the other facility. To Wanda’s room.”

“Oh… I’m not… I don’t suppose it would be a good idea for me to just walk right into the room with you.”

“I guess not.” I agreed.

“Maybe you could talk to her alone first? Try to prepare her? She may not believe you if you tell her outright that I’m alive, but… maybe you can find the right thing to say? You usually do.” he said thoughtfully.

“I think you might be exaggerating a bit there, but I’ll try my best. That much I can safely promise.”

 

“And you think she’ll be okay with me, a complete stranger, just calling her Wanda?” I asked again.

“Absolutely.” Pietro confirmed with a nod.

He looked more nervous than I felt.

“Okay. If you say so. I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with her about something so small. This is delicate enough as it is. Let’s get this show on the road then. I’ll go in first, and you follow when I call you, as we said. And you better wipe that frown off your face, or she might not recognize you at all.” I teased with an encouraging smile.

Standing of on tip toes, I pressed a quick kiss to his stubbled cheek, only to turn away and take the few steps towards the door that separated us from the room Pietro’s sister was currently inhabiting.

After reading T’Challa’s note, we had gotten ready rather quickly and tracked down the driver. Pietro had not been very keen on any further delays. Within two hours, we had reached the correct place.

Not looking back at him, I took a breath to steady myself, and knocked firmly.

“Wanda? My name is F/N. I would like to talk to you for a few minutes. Would you mind if I come in?”

There was no reply, but we had been reliably informed that she was in, so I lowered my hand to the doorknob to slowly open the door.

“Wanda? I’m coming in.” I warned again, stepping into the room and letting the door fall into its lock again. “Hello.”

She was seated in a small armchair by the window, her eyes alert and watching me intently, but again made no verbal reply.

It seemed to be a day of taking small liberties for me, so I went to pull out the chair belonging to the room’s desk and took a seat myself, not far from her. Her eyes did not stray from me once.

Fishing for words, I decided to just roll with it.

“Hey.” I greeted her again, and awkwardly. “Sooo… I’m not entirely sure how far T’Challa went in explaining why I’m here. Just… give me a moment or two to explain. I’m with SHIELD. Or, well… I used to be…

Anyways, a while back, something went down and I was sent away on and assignment. Somebody needed my medical training, in a secure location. Somebody I thought was dead. Somebody you thought was dead.”

At this, her powers flared up, tendrils of red shooting towards me as she narrowed he now glowing eyes at me. Being honest, I had to admit that, while some part of me was more than aware of the fact that she could be extremely dangerous, I also found that she was quite a sight to behold, and strangely… beautiful in her anger.

“Please, Wanda.” I hurried out. “Bear with me. It’ll be worth your while. I swear.”

The sizzling red strings of – What was it? Some kind of energy? – slowed their fluctuations, but remained wound all around me, making their way to my head while her gaze turned from enraged to contemplative.

Not wanting to miss a beat, I continued.

“Would it be all right if I asked somebody to join us now?”

Again, she made no verbal reply, and I took it as permission.

“Slowpoke!” I called. “Please come in. There’s no need to rush.”

Wanda’s eyes left me for the first time, and shifted to the door as it began to inch open, and when Pietro finally stepped into the room, she tensed, as did the tokens of her abilities, which still surrounded me.

“Pietro?” she whispered, the red energy finally dissipating.

He was next to her in the blink of an eye, pulling her up and into his arms.

“How?”

I could see the tears gathering in her eyes before she closed them and sank into her brother’s embrace, and figured it would be a good time to take my leave.

“He can explain it just as well as I can.” I said quietly. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

 

Letting out a shaky breath, my hand rested on the handle for several moments longer than was strictly necessary after pulling the door shut. Then, I steeled myself and approached the elevator.

It did not take long for me to find the driver who had brought us here once I had reached the ground floor. He informed me which specific path I needed to take, and how long it would take for me to reach the border on foot.

Next, I asked a helpful receptionist for a pen and paper and left a note for Pietro to explain myself.

 

I exited the building about twenty minutes after I had left Wanda’s room. The path I aimed for led through the seclusion of the jungle for a while, as I had asked for a less exposed route, and met up with the main road after many miles. From there I should according to the information I had been given, be able to reach the border by the end of the day, even on foot.

If I ever reached the path in the first place, of course.

“F/N?!” a familiar voice called out after me, and I stopped in my tracks.

Running away would have been a fruitless endeavor anyway. That much I knew.

Accompanied by a gust of wind that whipped my hair in every possible and impossible direction, Pietro stood before me a second later.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“For a little walk. I replied, not even able to convince myself.

“For a-“ he looked me up and down, then narrowing his eyes for a second. “No, you’re not. Why are you leaving?”

It was a good question. I was not entirely sure when I had come to the decision that this was necessary, but what I _did_ know was that, now that he had been reunited with his sister, I had to go. That I would not be able to look at him anymore and not think about how much he had come to mean to me. How much I loved being with him. How I slept better, felt safer, with him next to me. How I adored it when his snarky answers made me laugh. That I-

“Because you’re gonna be okay from here on out” I said, working hard to bite back a sob. “You’ve got your sister back, and she you. You’re clever. So is she. You‘ll figure out what to do next. You don’t need me. Neither of you.”

“But you can’t just… F/N, please don’t go. Not yet. Wanda wants to talk to you again. Or, well, for the first time…”

For some reason, I could not find it in me to refuse, and found myself nodding instead. A wide grin on his lips, he had scooped me up into his arms before I knew what was happening.

“Slowpoke, what – What are you doing???” I screeched.

“Speeding things up a bit.” he smirked. “Wouldn’t want to keep my sister waiting. “Grumpy Wanda is not a good Wanda.”

A second later, we were back in front of the same door, and again, I entered alone, this time because Wanda had, according to her brother, requested to speak to me that way.

“Hello.” She said, a gorgeous smile lighting up her face.

“You wanted to see me again?”

I was curt, mainly because I was uncertain where this was headed, and I did not like this kind of uncertainty.

"I wanted to thank you."

“That’s not- It was my pleasure. You were the first person on his mind after he woke up. And I can’t even begin to imagine what you went through, thinking you’d lost him. It was only right that I did everything in my power to reunite the two of you.”

“That’s not all it was for you, though, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve grown fond of him, have you not?”

There was no way I could have credibly denied her words. Not with the look of absolute certainty in her eyes and the knowing smile on her lips.

“You’ve been in my head.” I stated plainly.

Her smile fell instantly.

“I’m sorry. I did not mean to be intrusive. It’s just… second nature to me.

She suddenly looked so nervous… Not at all like the woman Pietro had described. I briefly wondered what they might have done to her to provoke such a change.

“That’s okay.” I assured her. “It’s just that… I guess I didn’t even admit it to myself until an hour ago.”

“I see. And that’s why you were running away? Or trying to, anyway?”

I looked down to where I was fidgeting with a loose thread on my jeans.

“Guilty as charged.” I mumbled.

Still not looking back up at her I could not see it, but I was certain I could hear a faint smile in her voice.

“I know I can never repay you for what you’ve done for me, and Pietro, but if I may still ask a favor of you… stay. If only for a little while. Stay until we know what we are going to do next. I think I have made enough use of the King’s hospitality, so…”

When she simply drifted off, I sighed.

“Fine.”


	6. You’re Not the Boss of Me, Okay?

Following my second one-on-one with Wanda, I left her room and, after assuring Pietro his sister had dissuaded me from running away for the time being, went to speak to the receptionist.

The driver who had brought us here seemed to have left, as I could not see him anywhere, and the receptionist appeared surprised when I asked whether it would be possible for us to stay a couple of days. According to her, T’Challa had already given instructions to accommodate for such a decision, and was willing to let us stay as long as we wished, and rooms to either side of Wanda’s had already been prepared.

So much for not being able to repay someone. Making my way back upstairs, I pondered T’Challa’s generosity and kindness.

Pietro and Wanda had sat together until the wee hours of the morning, and I had heard them talking ever so faintly, but been unable to make out what they were saying.

Not that I had tried.

Now, her room beside mine had been silent for nearly an hour after Pietro had left it to retire himself, and I still lay awake, incapable of finding rest.

A knock had me throw the astonishingly cool sheets off my body, and I padded over to answer the door.

“Hey, Slowpoke.” I murmured in greeting to my late visitor. “I thought you’d gone to bed.”

“I had…” he muttered, looking down at his apparently extremely interesting feet.

It took me a while before it dawned on me what had brought him here.

“Can’t sleep?” I asked, receiving a nod. “The dreams?” Another. “Come on in. I can’t sleep either.”

As I stepped aside, he slowly trudged past me and fell face first onto the bed.

“Make yourself comfortable.” I chuckled, gently releasing the door handle.

He rolled over and looked up at me. There was something strange in his eyes.

“You really don’t mind? I mean, we’re not on the run for the time being. There’s no need to be secretive or to pretend we are something we’re not.”

“Well…” I sat down next to him and pulled the sheets to cover my legs. “I don’t know what exactly… No, let me say it this way… Something we certainly are, or at least I am, is concerned about the other. And if you can’t sleep, or sleep better when we’re sharing a bed, then so be it. At the very least, you are my friend, and I’ll do what it takes to help you.”

He looked up at me through tired eyes, and I thought he was about to say something, but seemed to stop himself. Not wanting to pry, I dismissed what I thought I might have been seeing.

“Either way…” I said, tugging on the sheets a bit. “…you should come under the covers. I think we could both use some sleep.”

 

My waking, still sleep-addled brain needed some time to register why I felt way too warm. In fact, I had to open my eyes first. When I did, it was not the breath-taking view of the jungle, or the blinding light filtering in through the windows that captured my attention, but Pietro, in whose arms I was being held hostage.

Body molded to his, skin on skin where no fabric covered me, the heat he radiated enveloped me while my heart rate was nearing that of a bee hummingbird at rest. We’d woken up close before, but not like this. I wasn’t sure if I should soak it in while I could, or try to retreat discreetly.

The latter option won out, but just as I was about to slip out of bed, his eyes blinked open.

“F/N?” he mumbled sleepily. “Where are you going?”

Fishing for words, I stuttered out a flimsy explanation.

“Nowhere. You’re just… you’re like a furnace. I mean-“

He smirked.

“Are you saying I’m hot?”

My nerves instantly forgotten, I rolled my eyes.

“Only in terms of temperature, Slowpoke.”

Okay, that was a lie, plain and simple. He was hot. Certainly in more than just that one way.

He pouted a little and, finally releasing me from the circle of his arms, leaned up on his elbows as I sat up.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” I nodded.

“Why were you running away?”

 

“I wasn’t-“

“Wanda told me.”

Shit.

“What did she tell you?”

“Just that you were leaving, with no intention of returning. What else could she have told me?”

I stayed silent, looking down.

“She knows the reason.” He said, answering his own question.

“It’s not like I could have kept it from her, is it?” I muttered.

So you would have left, but you came back because of Wanda. And now you’re staying because Wanda asked you to. Did you let me stay here for that reason, too???” he asked, his voice growing louder now. “Did Wanda ask you for that as well?”

“What? No!!! I told you why I let you stay last night!” I defended myself.

“Then tell me, if you care so much, why would you go without as much as a goodbye?”

He sounded so angry, and at the same time so incredibly hurt, I did not have the guts to look him in the eye. The silence between us only broken by the sound of our breathing, I bit my lip as I looked up at the ceiling. Several long moments went by before I found the heart to speak.

“I… I was going to leave because… I’m afraid.” There. I said it. “I’m afraid of things I don’t fully understand. Things I don’t know every nuance of. Have not seen every side of. When I have a job to do, I can overcome those fears, because I have to.

Being sent away from HQ, with you, that I could do. But since you woke up… it’s been different. This has become more than a job. You have become more than a job.”

I shrugged helplessly, finally rising out of bed and standing in front of the window, my unseeing gaze on the jungle not far from the building.

“I don’t know if this should have happened, I don’t know if it’s right, and I’m scared. I have an unhealthy habit of running away, be it literally or metaphorically, when I’m scared of something so personal.”

I fell silent again, waiting, my arms wrapped around my own shoulders. Nothing but a light breeze alerted me to his approach. The silence still remained unbroken though, and after a while I risked a quick glance at him, just from the corner of my eye.

His pose was somewhat similar to my own. Facing the window, he looked straight ahead at the foliage outside, his hands in his pockets. There seemed to be a small frown on his features.

My own eyes back on the green, I held my breath when he began to speak.

“Maybe it will ease your mind to know that I am happy to hear you see more than a job in me. I… I can’t put a name to it just yet, but there are things I feel… things I feel for you… that I want to know more about. That I want to… explore. I can’t do that if you run. But… I don’t want you to stay against your will either.”

He sighed, and I released the air I had been holding in my lungs, my arms lowering from my chest, my pose suddenly much more relaxed.

“I won’t leave, then.” I said softly. “I could go back to S.H.I.E.L.D. if I wanted, but I’d much rather stay, and see how this thing between us plays out.”

“I’m glad.” he whispered.

We kept looking out the window, but after a while, I felt his fingers gently brush across the back of my hand, slipping around to interlace with mine. It felt more intimate, now that we had both spoken about what we felt for the other.

 

We had a late brunch in Wanda’s room. It felt strange to me, being waited upon as we were, but T’Challa’s staff insisted it was perfectly alright and that their king would not have it any other way.

“You two had a good night?” Wanda asked after swallowing a mouthful of french toast.

I nodded silently, barely noticing her smirk and Pietro’s light blush.

“How about the morning?” she went on. “Informative?”

“Wanda…” Pietro warned, causing her to laugh.

It was nice to see her in such a lighthearted moment.

“I’m just asking.” She said, blinking innocently at her brother.

“Aren’t there more important things we should talk about?” he grumbled.

“Such as?”

“Well…” I chimed in, although I found their bickering quite entertaining. “I’ve been giving things a little bit of though last night while I tried to fall asleep, before… anyways. I think I might have an idea what we could do next, if you both agree.”


End file.
